HOUSE MD Crossover MAXIMUM RIDE
by Wingedteen
Summary: SUMMARY: One word to describe a sick, possibly dying, Max? The Flock says: Stubborn. Doctor House says: *Interesting…*
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY:  
One word to describe a sick, possibly dying, Max? The Flock says: Stubborn. Doctor House says: **_**Interesting…**_

**I can't believe this is the first HOUSE MD cross with Maximum Ride. I mean, Max and House both have practically the same sarcastic attitude (beside the fact that Max isn't heartless). I'd love to see the both of them in the same room! So, I thought: Why the hell not?  
If there are any other HOUSE MD crosses with Maximum Ride, can you let me know in a review? Anonymous is activated, so you don't even have to sign in! =]  
Author comments will be in [Brackets], and words that are big, scary, medical lingo and are ****underlined**** can be explained at the bottom, K?  
POINT OUT ANY MISTAKES!!!!  
DISCLAIMER: **_**I do not own House MD, or Maximum Ride. MR belongs J.P, and House MD belongs to whatever genius thought it up. I DO own Steve McQueen… (a baby rat that dropped out my ceiling, that I named Steve McQueen). **_**[I always forget these things…]  
Tell me if this crossover works or not!!  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

"A girl came in today,"

"Funny, I thought that happened, like, a _lot_."

"Well, she was being escorted by five other kids, two dogs-"

"Dogs? How'd they get through security-"

"LET ME FINISH, HOUSE! I don't know _how_ they got through, they just _did_. They look like they've just come off the _street_, and are all carrying back-packs, and-!" Cuddy cut herself off, throwing her arms in the air. House just lent on his cane, and stared. Cuddy started randomly re-organising papers on her desk, and he was cut off just as he tried to speak.

"Her 'family'- those five other kids- are saying there's _something_ wrong, that she's sick… well, the _girl_ says they're making a 'big deal' over nothing!" Cuddy was getting worked up again, so she stopped moving and took a deep breath. "I believed her, and was about to see her off, when she started _seizing!_ And before I could call for the diazepam, one of her 'brothers' starts reviving her, like it's happened before! And as I'm rolling her over, I can _feel_ some sort of _lumps_ on her back, like _deformities_, or- or-" Cuddy started getting flustered, talking fast and gesturing wildly.

"And _why_ do you want me to take the case?" House said tartly, making a sarcastic expression.

"Because," Cuddy sighed, "I just got a call from the CDC, on behalf of the _President's_ office, in conjunction with the CIA, FBI, Homeland Security-"

"Ooh, all the _big_ acronyms!" House said sarcastically, exaggerating his expression, and falling into a chair. Cuddy remained standing.

"And they're all requesting Princeton's full co-operation. As well as the _best_ diagnostic specialist-"

"Well, I'm flattered."

"Don't be. The best diagnostic specialist is missing in Iran. They're making do with second-rate material." House gaped, scratching his scruffy chin. "And they suggest that this case had better not leak out. And as of her admition into Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital's care; this case, and her file, is considered National Security." House turned to Cuddy with surprised eyes, and a disbelieving, half-open mouth.

"That's right, House," she continued, a teasing, tired boss-smile on her face, "This one has security levels you can only _dream_ about." He blinked.

"What'd she _do_? Have an affair with the _President_?"

**_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

Thirteen, Kutner, Taub and Foreman all walked in, surprised looks on their faces. In place of their normal white board, was a touchpad super-computer, seven swivel-chairs seated behind a fancy metal desk, and the blinds sealed off with what appeared to be bullet-proof metal plates.

"Uh…House? What's all this?" Taub said, seeing a bored Cameron sitting next to the sink, Chase spinning around on a swivel-chair, and Wilson making coffee with a dumbfounded look on his face. The entire room was dim, lit by the computer's glare. House walked in from his office, smiling at his Duckies confused and weirded-out expressions.

"Wow. They do know how to make this feel all top-secret, don't they?" he chuckled, tapping a swivel chair with his cane.

"Huh. Why are there buttons on the side of the-"

"The lights," Chase interrupted, still turning. "And for heating. And a back-massage."

Kutner half-frowned, before he sat himself down in the nearest chair, fiddling with the buttons.

"O-oh, y-yeahh…" he groaned, his voice shaking, having found the 'vibrate massage' option on the chair's arm. He smiled at Foreman. "Seriously, man, you've got to try this…" he beamed, relaxing into the expensive upholstery.

"No thanks." Foreman frowned, sitting on the metal table. "House, why all the hi-tech gadgets? Did you accept a _bribe_?"

"Nope. It's all courtesy of the President, CDC, CIA… you get the picture. A lot of up-there people." He said with an exaggerated, knowing wink. "And it's legal, too."

"For once." Cameron snorted, heading for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Cuddy stepped through the door, shutting the heavy, reinforced metal-slab behind her.

"Surely House doesn't need all six-" Wilson raised his hand, looking sullen, "-seven of us on the case." She said, throwing house a look, before making a step for the door. Cuddy put her arm in front of her, before continuing grudgingly.

"Unfortunately- this time, he actually does." She pressed Cameron into a chair, and half-leaned against the wall. House plopped into a chair, a heavenly look on his face as he switched the massage onto high.

"I'm going to need all of you to help House on this one." She said, ignoring the outraged outbursts. She held up a hand, and everyone sank back into their seats.

"Yes, I know we all think we probably have better things to do… I know I do," she muttered the last part to herself, straightening out her jacket. "But on request of a lot of high-ranking government agencies and officials, we're all here now." She tapped the flat computer, and the entire wall was revealed to be part of the screen.

"Five kids have come in," she tapped a file, and several pictures popped up. "But we're only treating this girl here, for the moment," a large, clear picture flashed across the screen, depicting a dirty-blonde haired teenager with a defiant, stubborn expression. All that could be seen was her face, and a name: Max Walker. "Her companions –she introduced them as, 'family'- are Nick," A boy this time, with darker skin, black hair, and a neutral expression. "Jeff," Another teenage boy, this time a strawberry-blonde with pale, pale skin. The entire room squinted up at his eyes.

"Is he…?" Wilson said, leaning forward.

"Blind? Yup." House spun, kicking his cane into Chase's chair. "As a bat."

"ANYWAY," Cuddy interrupted loudly, pointing back at the screen as another photo was displayed. "She's Tiffany-Krystal." An African-American girl smiled down at something outside the photo. "As you can guess, they're probably not all related- by blood, at least." The screen flicked over to a smiling blonde boy with sparkling blue eyes and a mischievous twinkle. The picture was suddenly reduced in size, and another placed beside it- a blonde, blue-eyed, little girl with an angelic aura, even through a photo. They looked so much alike, yet, the boy was everything to do with trouble, and the girl was the perfect epitome of innocence. AREIL AND ZEPHYR WALKER flashed across the bottom of the two photos.

"These two, however, we're almost positive are related- and possibly to Jeff, as well-"

"Does that _seriously_ say, Zephyr? Wow, dude, awesome name-" House said, imitating (badly) a surfer.

"_Since_ she's been admitted, she's had another seizure, a build up of fluid around her lungs, and the veins and arteries in her wrists are swelling. We've already scheduled a thoracentesis for the build up of fluid, but at the moment we've got limited access to the patient."

"Wait, limited access? What does _that_ mean?" Thirteen asked, standing from the table and sitting in one of the chairs.

"We can't physically examine the patient, take X-rays, blood samples, or run any tests- not even an allergic scratch-test." Loud, disbelieving shouts erupted out of almost everybody.

"_How_ are we supposed to treat th-"

"This is stupid! They're just _lining her up_ for a-"

"Oh, this is just _great_! Is she in lockdown or someth-"

"OKAY! EVERYBODY JUST. _SHUT. UP!!_" the room quietened. "Thank you! Now, I know this is ridiculous. Hell, everything to do with this case is going to be ridiculous! But we will eventually be told what's going on!" Cuddy stopped to wipe her forehead. "We are all being checked out… yes, all of us. And if we're deemed safe, we'll be given security clearance to approach the patient with tests. At the moment, while your security clearance is still level 2, and mine is still level 3, our sole purpose is to keep her _alive_ and _stable_."

"How many security levels are we talking about here? That they're going to have to bump us up?" Taub asked, pressing his hands together.

"Presidential level." House answered seriously. "The highest there is."

Cuddy nodded. "Maybe higher." She then continued.

"Everyone, go take a break. Have some lunch, get some air. Then, you'll be meeting our patient." The doctors all nodded, gathering their coats with various level of frustration. Chase and Kutner looked longingly back at the chairs.

"And, remember," Cuddy suddenly voiced, causing everyone to pause. "None of this leaves this room."  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**BIG, SCARY, MEDICAL LINGO**:

**DIAZEPAM**: An anti-seizure drug.

**THORACENTESIS**: A medical procedure in which a hollow needle is inserted into the chest to drain fluid from around the lungs.

**Iggy**: Why aren't we in the story yet? Isn't this a Max Ride fanfic? All we've been in are pictures! *stamps foot*  
**W.T**: I-I can explain!! *sweatdrop* This chapters really short, but you're in the next one! I promise, Iggy!  
**Iggy**: *bursts into tears*  
**Max**: _Auuuttthhhorr_… You made Igs _cry_. *cracks knuckles*  
**W.T**: AGHHHHHHH!! *runs screaming*

Reviews feed the evil chapter plot bunnies! Help the Authoress write this fic, and the bunnies TAKE OVA THE WROLD!!!


	2. Poor, Wimpy, Oncologist

**I've been informed of two important points;**

** is OOC.**

**… wait, KUTNER'S DEAD?!! **

**HOLY SHIT PEOPLE, SINCE WHAT EPISODE?!?!?!?!!! **

**I'm only half way through season 5, here!! When the hell did Kutner croak…? **

**Okay, so, on problem 2, just pretend that magical pixies or something came and revived him with Toadflax and Pixie dust, m'kay? Yeah, we cool?**

**On prob. one, the reason Cuddy is a bit OOC is cuz she's stressed out. Remember when House was in that hostage situation and she just shut down, became like a robot? Yeah, well it's not quite as extreme as that;**

**She's being hounded on all sides by the government and separate agencies, been told to put some of her best doctors solely onto one case, and she knows there's something not quite right about Max and co, having met them. She's just stressed. That can tend to make people a bit OOC, okay? It's just a new situation for poor old Cuddy-sies, and she's the boss, so she needs to be on top of the situation, which isn't happening when she's been put on the backburner.**

**Does that explain? 0.0;**

**To: StalkerOfFang:**

**HoLy CrAp! You're the person who stole my penname! When I first came onto this site, that's what I was gonna be, but you're the one who got there first!! Thanks for the comment; I just had to throw that out there. =]**

**To: Zee Frostfeather:**

**G'day there! Thanks for taking the time to check out my story!! =] HEAR THAT PEOPLE, **_**PRAISE THIS FELLOW FANFIC AUTHOR! THE ORIGINAL CREATOR OF THE HOUSE AND MAX CROSSOVER!!!**_** (With a great title to match, teehee…) *Bows down to your awesomeness***

**Thanks to all those that not only faved/alerted my story, but to also took the time to send me a nice little review! ^.^ Your reviews seriously do feed the plot bunnies, people. Keep sending 'em, and I'll try to at least churn out a couple more chapters soon! =]**

**DISCLAIMER**_**: House MD and Maximum Ride go to their respective Author/producer/creator. Which, incidentally, ain't me. One day, if I ever get round to finishing one of my original stories, and manage to find someone crazy enough to publish it, the people will have to write disclaimers that say, "The original concept of this story goes to K.J. Power- the authoress. I DUNNO OWN IT." That'll be awesome. For now, it's gotta wait. **_

**[EDIT: Okay, I was just informed that in episode 20 Kutner kills himself with a gun… shot to the head, apparently. The ironic thing? I decided to write this story after watching episode 19 of House- one episode off, shoot! **

**For this story, it won't be too hard to pretend that Kutner's still alive and kicking, yeah? Good. He and Thirteen (and maybe Foreman) are the only people of the new team that I can stand. Taub, why didn't you kill yourself? That would have made me happier! =] (No offense to Taub lovers, it's just my opinion) **

**And Wilson is gonna be fairly OOC, in this one. But, I figure, as an oncologist he doesn't have to deal with much of the gruesome stuff that House's team/ex-team have been desensitised to. ]**

**[EDIT NUMBAH 2: Errr… oh, yeah. Someone asked for a... "romantic scene"… between Max and Fang…**

**Let me just throw this out there… Romance- not my forte! I think I could write a better love scene between a bar of soap and a shoe. Seriously. I suck at Fax, especially, so I'm gonna stick with no pairings so as not to ruin the fic. Yes, there will be the whole, "and the room was suddenly brighter" thing between them… only cause that's in the book- canon, you could say. I'm thinking of writing a one-shot of Fax, to see how people like my brain fart of a "romantic scene". Trust me, it ain't pretty…]**

"…and then she said, 'Go ahead. It's my ex-husband's car'!" The entire lunch table burst into a fit of laughter, the top shaking with the vibrations. Chase, who had headed back to the counter for seconds, pouted at having missed the joke. Wilson was the first to recover from his chuckles.

"You know, Cuddy's really stressed over this whole thing… it's making me worried about what we're going to have to deal with when," he threw a pointed glance at House, who sneered, "or _if_ we get clearance." House's current, and ex-team, all raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, Wilson- when you're in House's team, you've already seen most of the stuff to get worried over. She's probably some special case or something… not really something to sweat over, so don't worry." Chase answered, slinging his arm over the back of the chair. The other doctors nodded, recalling some of the more…_gruesome_ cases House had put them on. House grinned scarily, genuinely pleased with the grossed looks overcoming some of the younger doctors' faces.

"But, what if it's some kind of new, bacterial _infection_ or _something_? Something _really_ horrible?" he pressed, glancing warily at the huge, toothy shark-grin on House's face. Foreman gave him a sceptical look.

"Who here has dealt with a rapid, degenerative, flesh-eating disease before?" he asked, raising his hand. The entire table, minus Wilson, raised their hands. Wilson glanced around, spooked. "I rest my case." Foreman finished finally, dropping his hand to curl around his coffee. Wilson looked like he was about to object, before Cameron countered.

"Raise an arm if you've been knee-deep in fresh animal scat." Chase, Foreman, Cameron and Thirteen raised a hand. Wilson's brows furrowed. Kutner leaned over Taub to stare at Thirteen, confused.

"What?" she said, looking down at him, "It was a dare!"

"Ooo, Duckies, don't pick on the poor Oncoligis-"

House's pager suddenly went on a beeping rampage.

"Good news!" he smiled sarcastically, heaving himself off the cafeteria seat, stolen bun in hand. "Time to meet the brats!" he limped off, sculling his coffee, before dropping it onto another doctor's tray. The doctor sent dirty looks House's way, before turning back to his salad. The rest of the temporary, newly-formed team sighed, before following the deranged cripple.

Cuddy met them in the hall outside the cafeteria, turning on her heel without a word. The others shrugged at their boss's strange behaviour, but followed silently. Cuddy, even though as her heels clicked on the hospital floor, she held her chin up and her shoulders back- there was an air of wariness; and lack of sleep, if the make-up covered bags under her eyes were any clue.

House, ever so subtly, tried to wheel around once they reached the main floor of the hospital. Cuddy just called out.

"House, they're in room 402. If you're not there in five minutes, I'm going to send security to search through every room in this hospital for you." This made House falter a bit, before he disappeared around the corner.

"We may never see him again…" Cameron sighed, turning back to Cuddy.

"Actually, was that such a good idea?" Thirteen pressed, Foreman coming to back her up.

"I'm not in the mood to deal with House's immaturity and childish games right now. He can get his ass up there in five minutes, or I'm having security hunt it down. Next question." Cuddy sighed. They backed off.

"Since when are you so interested in my ass?" Came House's sassy reply, from somewhere down the hall.

"I swear, for a cripple, he's got some freaky super-hearing." Kutner said, glancing around like he was half expecting Foreman to be wired.

"402, right?" Wilson asked, pointing towards a room at the end of the hall. The blinds were shut, and there was probably identical plating to the one in the re-vamped office covering the other side of the glass. Cuddy took a deep breath, leaning lightly against the door for a second.

"Prepare yourselves," she warned "I think that sometimes she's even more of a mini-House than he is." Cuddy pushed open the door, leaving the others to giggle over Foreman's insulted face.

They stepped inside. It wasn't what they all expected- no guys in suits shadowing the kid's every move, no super-gadgets lining the wall. Just a single, lonely camera and a normal hospital room. But the occupants of the room? Well, one phrase came to mind.

…controlled chaos.

"Max! Max! I can't read this word!" an African-American girl shouted from beneath a pile of information books and atlases. She repeated her cry several times; before it clicked that the older girl was ignoring her. She rounded on the nearest older kid.

"I-Jeff! Jeff! I can't read this word!"

He sent her an incredulous look. "And you think_ I _can?!"

The little girl, Ariel, was petting a small dog, talking to Zephyr, and looking at the teddy bears in the pages of a children's magazine.

The older girl, Max, was glaring at the box Zephyr was grinning into, and talking to Jeff at the same time.

And the darker boy, Nick, had a laptop perched on one knee, a packet of chips on the other, and was butting into Jeff and Max's conversation randomly.

They all turned at the sound of the door, then went back to their conversations. Taub and Foreman gave Cuddy a look. She just shrugged. Chase twisted to face his boss.

"Would I be right in thinking that a family history is also illegal?" Cuddy nodded absent-mindedly, before heading towards the exit. The team spluttered their disagreements- before she shut the door in their faces, with a look that said, '_shove it_'.

So, they stood awkwardly by the back wall. Until Max decided to break the silence.

"So, are all doctors this mute?" Foreman stepped forward, while Cameron patted a flushed Wilson on the back.

"I'm Dr Foreman, and these are my colleagues: Dr Hadley," Thirteen raised a hand "Dr Kutner, Dr Taub," the two of them waved a little, Kutner leaning against the wall "Dr Cameron, Dr Chase," the duo smiled "and Dr Wils-"

"Hey, are you okay? He looks like he's having a breakdown!" Tiffany-Krystal said, having bounded over to her sister's bedside. Wilson gulped before nodding, replying with a slightly shaky, 'I'm fine'.

"-on. Dr Wilson." Foreman finished.

The room was kind of stuffy, and getting pretty cramped, with seven doctors and five siblings in the room.

Bark. Ruff.

Oh, yeah. And two dogs.

There was an awkward pause.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Do your worst." Jeff remarked, swinging a leg against the metal bed-frame twice.

Wilson spluttered for a second, about to reply, when the door slammed open with a loud bang.

"That's _my_ job." He said, holding a medical-file package. The other doctors stared at it curiously for a second. The pale package was clearly marked, 'PATIENT HISTORY'. But, whose?

House sighed as his Ducklings continued to watch the parcel in his grip. The patient's family was likewise staring at his flaming (_hot!_) cane. Both House and his patient sighed melodramatically.

"Good help is so hard to come by these days…"

"I agree."

**FEED THE EVIL PLOT BUNNIES! YES, THE CREEPY ONES THAT FOLLOW YOU AROUND ASKING FOR YOUR BLOOD-TYPE AND, 'HOW'S THAT COUSIN OF Y-**

**IGGY: *SOBBB***

**MAX: …?**

**IGGY: NODBODY LOOOOVES ME!!!!!!!!**

…

**W.T.: Gazzy, what'd you put in Ig's Cheerios?**


	3. Back to the Beginning

**[God! You guys, I'm so sorry!! Here's the actual chappie 3, k? The reason it's so short is cuz I need to find my planning pages, with the story line and all that jazz. Be patient, because without them, this story may belly-flop. Agian.]**

**Hyper-Dinosaur-says-RAWR:**

**(FWI, I dig your penname) Thanks for the tip! But…er, copying from the book… isn't that, like, illegal? Just, y'know, a minor detail. =P (PS: thanks for commenting on the end A/n's- I'd thought I'd creeped everyone out, or somethin'!)**

**L/Ove ():**

**PLEASE DO NOT HUNT ME DOWN!! PLEASE!!! But, don't kill the chapter bunnies! They supply you guys with chapter plots!! KILL THE EVIL STORY-IDEA BUNNIES!!!1!! THEY'RE THE ONES WHO KEEP TURNING ME OFF WRITING CHAPTERS ON OLDER STORIES!!! Kkthnks.**

**Check out my other (short- very short) story. It has my attempt at Fax. My very **_**lame**_** attempt at Fax. It's actually sort of hinted Faxness, 'cuz they don't kiss or nuthin. Like I said, bar-of-soap and shoe. (see prev. chapter note)**

**I'll try some hinted/obvious Fax, though, because if I feed you Fax/more-chapters, I've been promised reviews and virtu-cookies. I just finished some Ginger Bread Men (cough-deformedblobs-cough) with wonky gel smiles. (that I licked off =]) **

**Straight from wiki!answers: ****Hyperthermia (High) - Body temperatures above 40°C (104 °F) are life-threatening. This compares to normal human body temperature of 36-37°C (97-98°F). At 41°C (106 °F), brain death begins, and at 45°C (113°F) death is nearly certain. Internal temperatures above 50°C (122°F) will cause rigidity in the muscles and certain, immediate death.**

**Yes, this is Max/Flock POV. Finally, some mutant-bird-kid view!**

**______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

"You're burning up!"

"So, it doesn't mean I'm sick! OR THAT I NEED TO GO TO A HOSPITAL!"

"Face it, Max, you're not indestructible."

Yes, that's right. The great Maximum Ride is sick. And being hounded by her cohorts to go visit a _doctor, _like, a people one. In a _hospital_, no less. What is the world coming to? This argument had being going for quite some time now, Fang insisting, me objecting, and Iggy yawing tiredly on the side.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking- 'Uh, Max, does a certain Vet spring to mind?' Unfortunately, said Vet is on her honeymoon.

With my father.

Bleh.

I'd been sitting around the fire with the Flock a couple of days ago, and had started having heat flashes. Yeah, the nasty ones I'd had right before I'd turned into an Eraser, last time. I'd looked down, into the role of crumpled al-foil, and screamed when I saw two yellow eyes staring back. Which had sent the Flock into immediate panic-mode.

Fang had tried to get closer to me to see what was going on. I'd kept screaming at him to stay away. Typical, stubborn Fang had tackled me to the ground and pinned me next to the fire. Jerk.

After he'd managed to convince me that, no, I was not an Eraser, I'd finally calmed down.

And then, I'd started shaking uncontrollably. 'Seizing', was the medical lingo Iggy had used. Basically, I looked like a panicking fish on dry land, with a few volts being shocked into it every couple of seconds. Not a pretty sight.

So, here I was, bouncing my leg while waiting for a doctor to check me out, with the Flock all making sure that I wasn't going to make a run for it. Cheaters.

"Next please! Uh… Max Walker." Sighing, I headed towards the nurse holding the clipboard.

"Exam room four, okay?" she said, pointing towards the door. I nodded, the Flock shuffling after me. The woman looked like she was about to object, when Angel smiled at her sweetly.

"It's okay, right?" She said in her little-girl voice, her mind-control face on. The woman nodded absently with a blank look and shuffled through her clipboard. I gave her a hard look, but opened the door for her to get through. The doctor in the room was snapping off a pair of gloves, when she turned to me and took in the amount of people.

"Uh..."

"It's ok," Angel said, smiling at her, "Shirley said it was alright." I hoped the woman wouldn't be suspicious of her, because the nurse out front hadn't been wearing a name tag. The woman patted the bench, scanning the crowd in the exam room.

"So, who's Max Walker?" she quickly checked the name on a chart on the wall. I shifted from foot to foot, with a small wave at the doctor. The tiny exam room was making me extremely anxious, as was the smell, and I pitied Iggy as the doctor accidentally bumped a drawer, hearing the needles rolling around in there. "take a seat, ok? I'm Dr. Cuddy." Once I was properly seated, she started the questioning.

"What seems to be the problem, Max?"

"Uh…" I looked at Fang for support, who just motioned minutely for me to continue. "Well, nothing, actually. My brother just over-reacted a little bi-"

"She's been getting fevers, heat-flashes, and the headaches are getting worse. Her eye's just sort of glaze over every once in a while, and she was hallucinating a few days ago." I glared at Fang, who just glared back, obviously annoyed by my lack of info-giving skills. And did he _have_ to mention the Eraser thing? The lady's brow furrowed.

"Hallucinations? What kind of hallucinations? And how high do the fevers get?" she started taking notes on a small doctor's pad that she'd whipped out of god-knows-where. Fang shrugged, and I figured that he'd probably used up his word quota for today. Iggy took over.

"Well, immediate fatalities are certain at 122 degrees (F), right? And the 'average is around 36.6 or something like that…" Cuddy looked a little taken aback by Iggy's offhand questions. She nodded.

"Hers is considerably higher -than normal, I mean- on a good day. And I'm pretty sure it was approaching the 'abnormal' range. And she says that the fevers and headaches come in flashes- good one second, bad the next-"

I sorta tuned Iggy out after that, I have to admit. The words were getting bigger and more complicate as those two talked, and it was starting to make my brain hurt.

A flash of –what felt like- molten iron being poured across my brain brought me out of my day-dream, and I was only semi-consciously aware of a scream that wracked the cramped room, dimly realizing that, like usual, it was probably mine. My body was shaking- shivering like I'd suddenly been dumped into the Antarctic all over again, while I felt like I'd been tossed into the sun. I heard a far off voice scream instructions, and was temporarily annoyed that someone else was bossing around my flock, before dark clamped white-hot fingers over my vision and my head thumped against the ground.

--

**Sorry, that was a really short one. But it was dedicated to a good friend of mine –Lozza, you know who you are!- who's known on as JaspersImaginaryFriend, who kicked my butt into gear today after a party we attended, and a reviewer who this goes out to- Thank you! The editing was really needed…**

**MAX: So, you finally got your lazy ass around to the beginning of this whole mess. **

**W.T: Hey! You're in my story! No telling on meeee!!!**

**Lozza: *smacks W.T 'round the head* You done it! You got past… 'THE BLOCK'!! *does weird, original happy dance***

**Max: …happen often? *stares on horrified***

**W.T: Yeah. A lot, actually…**


End file.
